Reaver Guardian
by M'lady Midnight
Summary: Set in Nosgoth's first age, before the time of Kain and Raziel. The story of one vampire's struggle with the machinations of the Hylden. WARNING: Contains mild profanity. [AN - Ch 3 done, Ch 4 in prog.]
1. Reaver Guardian: Prequel

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Reaver Guardian

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DISCLAIMER:

I do not own anything related to Legacy of Kain apart from legally purchased copies of the games.

All names from the game series used herein are owned by Eidos/Crystal Dynamics/Silicon Knights and are ™ & © of the same.

Any similarity between persons or vampires living, dead or undead created by other writers is purely coincidental.

If you feel I have impinged on any copyrights with the content of this piece please do not hesitate to contact me.

Dulrayth Alabrion is my own creation…please ask before 'borrowing'.

~*LM*~

*~*~*~*

Stranger things have happened, I mused. Here I was, caught in my own domain like the proverbial fly in the web. Not knowing me for what I truly was the humans had presumed that I would fall easily to their blades. A futile wish on their part and endless hours of entertainment for me, my claws were sticky with the congealed blood of the fallen. Its faint but unmistakable copper scent clung to the air and through it all I stood impassive, immovable as the sanctuary itself.  
  
Several of the fledglings had fallen in the attack, but more dismembered Sarafan littered the ground at my feet than fledgling corpses. I breathed deeply and checked my grip about my blades hilt clenching and unclenching my claws to take the edge off my rising rage. Damn sorcerers and their spells. The door into my sanctuary was barred by divine enchantment, I had lain my free hand upon the eldritch barrier seeking to counter the spell and had only succeeded in searing the flesh from it's palm. I doubt the guards set had heard such oaths for many a year. I was trapped. I licked a trace of blood from my lips and waited.  
  
My patience was rewarded a short time later with the tramping of armoured boots upon the stone floor outside. A familiar figure came into my line of sight escorted by three Sarafan knights; he still bore that accursed snake twined staff and the mark of infinity upon his brow. Who amongst my kindred would think such a frail creature capable of capturing me, one of the eldest?  
  
That sickening smirk crept over his withered lips as he approached and passed through the doorway without harm then came the simpering and yet somehow chilling laugh as his misted orbs settled upon me. Despite myself I stepped back with a slight shudder, "Moebius."  
  
The timestreamer nodded, his paper dry lips curved into a that familiar devious smile, "Yes Dulrayth, Lord Moebius, guardian of the Pillar of Time." He etched a slight bow, insincere, his next sentence laced with cold venom he continued. "Too long have I waited for this day. I knew with her in my grasp you would follow."  
  
I snorted, feeling the fire creeping through my veins, "Where is she, sorcerer?" my silver eyes narrowed. Why should I cower and whine in the presence of such a pitiful creature as this? "Tell me" I drew forth my blade.  
  
"Dead, Vampire. As your kind rightly should be, it took a great deal of persuasion before the inquisitors learned what they needed of her." He reached into his robe and withdrew a small glistening item, my heart skipped a beat as he cast it at my feet; "There is your proof fiend. I believe you know how she came by that trinket." his eyes sparked with contempt.  
  
"You bastard! You vile, wretched creature!" The words came from me in a torrent of rage and grief, indeed I did know where the pendant had come from, my own hand at the last solstice. The familiar flames flickered to life, engulfing my body as I spread my wings and brought my blade to bear in an attack position.  
  
The accursed staff in the timestreamers hand flared to life, its energies reaching out toward me stealing the fires of my wrath. He came at me with surprising speed for one so slight of build, his grey robe flaring out about him like the wings of some ancient, emaciated crow, "You will be joining her presently, foul creature."  
  
I fended off his feeble attack easily, brushing his staff away almost carelessly. I could have killed him and spared Nosgoth his foul machinations in time to come but the doctrine of my people stayed my hand and held back the rage that burned within my heart. He had come for Janos but found me instead, fiend he named me, vampire, demon, slayer of the innocent and drinker of spilled blood. None of these titles could be further from the truth.  
  
I shoved him away into the wall; "You have not the strength, old man." I grinned maliciously, deliberately showing my fangs, "Were it not for that accursed staff you bear I could strike you down as you stand, but no, I am better than that."  
  
Moebius surveyed the guilty scene in the room; it was a gruesome display, the twisted corpses of several Sarafan guards lay in various pieces around the room. Blood laced the walls and pooled upon the floor. My fledglings had fed well as had I. He arched an eyebrow, "I think not, vampire. I grow tired of this game you play, where is Janos Audron?"  
  
I walked away nonchalantly, flicking my wings in a display of contempt returning coolly, "I am his student not his keeper. I do not know." Turning once more to face the old man I rested a booted foot upon a ruined wooden chest and hissed, "I too, grow tired of your constant shadowing of my steps timestreamer. Begone from this place. Return to whichever incarnation of this doomed land you have come from and trouble me no more."  
  
He glared at me; hatred glimmered in his misted eyes the emotion was mirrored in my heart. "What right did you have to take her life Moebius? Ananyé had done you no wrong." I demanded, fighting back my grief. He waved me to silence and chuckled, "As with all of your revolting race, her existence was affront enough."  
  
I cast my gaze downward and my thoughts inward, this fiend would continue to haunt me but I could not betray Janos. I owed him my life. When the Hylden curse struck us I had fallen into despair and nigh madness, I was on the very brink of death when he found me and took me under his wing. That was many centuries ago, I was not now a student but stayed with him to teach the fledglings the truth of what we were, what our purpose was, though I was not a Guardian myself. "The feeling is entirely mutual, Moebius. I can assure you of that." I grated from between clenched teeth. I cared not whether he heard the remark or no.

Adjusting his robes the sorcerer tilted his chin a little and narrowed his eyes. That disquieting glow within the orb set atop his staff returned in silent threat as he approached me, "You will answer my question Dulrayth or I will tear the answer from your lips agony by agony."

I laughed inwardly at this pathetic display; "I will answer no questions Moebius." The scuff of an armoured boot and the clinking of armour came from outside the chamber momentarily distracting my attention. The wretched sorcerer had brought his lackey, Malek, with him. The Sarafan stood at the doorway eyeing me with violent intent. I adjusted my position somewhat thus making by blade fully apparent to the knight, challenging him to do what he may. He shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of my gaze and tightened his grip upon his pike.

Moebius beckoned the knight into the chamber with a gesture of hand, his visage twisting into a cruel smirk, "Do as you may with him Malek, but summon me in the event he decides to break his silence." His tone sent a chill through my already cold blood. I could well envisage what this Sarafan had in mind for me, I had seen and heard his work before - and humans accused vampires of barbarism. The sorcerer cast me a look that spoke of the infinite torments to come then spun on his heel and left the room.

The paladin's dark eyes narrowed through the visor of his helm as he assumed a battle stance, "I shall carve the answer Lord Moebius seeks from your putrid corpse, fiend. Stand to and fight!"

I purposefully brought my blade around to guard once more meeting his adamant stare and shook my head, hoping to catch him off guard; "Always the obedient dog aren't you Malek? Tell me, has that accursed timestreamer told you nothing of the fate you are bound to? How the Nine will betray and damn you?" The ruse did not work, he growled as a beast would; "I will hear none of your treacherous lies blood drinker." I nodded slowly, almost mockingly, "So it would appear. Very well then, as you will paladin."

The first strike was mine but the human was quicker than I had anticipated, he brought the dual tipped pike up to block the blow spinning the weapon around to push my blade aside. He followed this with a spinning downward feint; I caught the shaft of the weapon in my free hand and dealt him a kick to the chest. The Sarafan grunted at the impact and took a few steps back wrenching his weapon from my grasp in the process. Having a better measure of my opponent, I offered him a slight, gracious nod and muttered, "It is heartening to find one better matched against my blade than these pitiful specimens." I scuffed my toe at a nearby fallen Sarafan in illustration of my point.

Malek looked to the corpse then raised his head to cast a purely venomous look in my direction. His black eyes narrowed to mere slits as he returned darkly, "Do not mock the fallen, you will join them soon enough vampire." He shifted his grip on the pike and adjusted his position to account for the height advantage I had over him. Whatever else he was, murderer, fanatic, lunatic, this Sarafan was a seasoned and skilled warrior. With a scream borne of pure hatred, he hurled himself at me, twirling the pike in a dizzying series of strikes and feints. I countered his attacks with my own, dodging and parrying the whirling blades and seeking a weakness in his defences to exploit. In such a small room as this we were in close quarters, this limited his combat repertoire and hampered my own movements.

Ferocious as he was I knew the paladin could not sustain such a brutal attack for overly long. The weight of his armour would tire him in a short while, so I bided my time picking off and countering his strikes. He swept low attempting to trip me; I sidestepped the weapon and kicked it from his grasp. Malek backed off, his hand going to a sword strapped at his side as he hissed, "You will not make such easy work of me as that, vampire"

Despite the situation I chuckled, "Come then," I beckoned the Sarafan on with a gesture of hand, "Draw your blade and let us have done with the niceties!" I hefted my blade as I took an attack stance, then flared my wings and hissed, giving voice to my hatred. We had sparred long enough. Our blades met in a clash of steel and thus began the deadly dance. The Sarafan went through a well-rehearsed pattern, evidently testing the truth of my skill with the blade. I would not disappoint him, after his first few passes I took initiative reversing his strike and turning the knight's blade aside with a backhand parry, following through with an upward sweep. Malek made a swift retreat, avoiding the blow and bringing his blade around to guard, I could sense his frustration. It wrapped around him like a shroud. He had not expected me to counter him so perfectly, so easily…I grinned, relishing his annoyance and displaying my needle-like ivory fangs to goad him to further action. I could play humans like a well-tuned harp.

He muttered a curse and swung for me again, I parried, the blade missing me by a mere fraction. A grunt escaped me at the ferocity of the blow but there was to be no respite, Malek aimed low, the blade sliced cleanly through my robes and barely grazed my abdomen. The act drew a further hiss from me, my strength returned with every successful strike and counter we exchanged. My opponent was not so lucky, I could see weariness setting in, his movements slowed, his breath came in short, ragged gasps. Still his determination did not falter, those cold calculating eyes were fixated upon me, studying my every move as the Sarafan prepared and executed his attack.

Malek came in at me with an over head slash, I pirouetted away dropping to a crouch and bringing my blade up to block the cross that followed. Taking my chance, I sprung at him from my crouched position knocking him backward over an upturned table and pinned him to the ground, my blade resting lightly against his throat. The Sarafan struggled futilely in my grasp, drawing in closer I growled, "Go back to the Timestreamer, Malek. Tell him this: his _time_ will come and his blood will pay for that of my mate." I could feel the fires within consuming my last shed of clarity and knew that I would kill him if he remained here any longer.

The paladin glared at me through narrowed eyes, still struggling against my grasp as he bit back, "As long as I stand the Nine will never fall to your kind." I chuckled at the irony of his words, having seen the truth of the future with my own silver eyes…would it ruin him, would it break his faith if I shared that forbidden knowledge with him? "We shall see, Sarafan. We shall see," was my reply as I wrenched him to his feet and forced him toward the barred doorway at sword-point. "Now, remove your wretched spell from the doorway!"

He viewed me coldly and returned flatly, "No"

~*~

The years have passed swift since that confrontation and I have grown older if not wiser for their passing. Our numbers dwindle, there are so few of us left, so very few. Janos remains in the sanctuary now, sustained by his guardianship of the great blade, by his unwavering faith in the doctrine and I, I watch as the sun sets on Nosgoth once more. My strength returns as its rays diminish and slip down beyond the western horizon in a blood red haze behind the gathering snow laden clouds. I wish Ananyé were here. I can almost hear her voice upon the wind, I see her in my minds eye as she turns away from the sun to face me. The fire of that majestic orb reflects in her silver eyes, it's flames flicker within her raven locks and surround her with their light, it is but a dream. I gaze into the west and wonder if I truly bear the courage to carry out my charge?

Janos approaches the balcony now to gaze over the frozen lake; our eyes meet but briefly as I stand upon the far cliff top. Below, far below, I hear the approach of armoured feet and spy the advancing banner of the Sarafan legions; the Inquisitors lead the group. I recognise each by their armour: Raziel, Turel, Melchiah, Rahab, Dumah and Zephon. Ahead of them, now within the tunnel, I see their quarry. The strange blue skinned wraith that the Master so desires to meet with, so alike to us and yet ruined, wingless and tortured in form…it matters not. My wings ache for the air. The Master's voice comes to me in my thoughts, "Go, my child, the time is come"

He has turned now from the sun's fire, from the crucified forms of our brothers and sisters that hang martyred upon the islands below the eyrie draped in the banners of the Sarafan crusaders. Our time has indeed come; my time is now. I have waited for this day. I look at his majestic form one last time and take to the air, headed west. We shall not meet again. Despite Janos' words, I cannot forgive the humans for the murder they are about to commit.

"They fear what they do not understand - and they hate what they fear…"

How many times have I heard that particular adage, how many times did you try to make me pity them Janos?

We who once protected them from the Hylden and were turned against them by the same, forced to prey upon them for our very survival. Is it any wonder they hate us? Us gods turned tyrants?

Ah Janos, there are some things all your doctrine and scriptures cannot determine. Guardians, in all your wisdom, you did not see this eventuality. Now it is too late and there are too few of us left to rectify things. You say our hope must be placed in the future and yet we have no future. The blood of us ancients runs thin. We have no heirs, who then will be our 'Hope' of the future?

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**Authors Note: I'm in the midst of a stage show at present so my updates will be staggered to say the least...Bear with me!**

- AmuseMe, Silmuen - Thanks for the reviews. Glad you like it!

~*LM*~


	2. Chapter One: Moonlight's Shadow

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DISCLAIMER: 

I do not own anything related to Legacy of Kain apart from legally purchased copies of the games. 

All names from the game series used herein are owned by Eidos/Crystal Dynamics/Silicon Knights and are ™ & © of the same.

Any similarity between persons or vampires living, dead or undead created by other writers is purely coincidental.

If you feel I have impinged on any copyrights with the content of this piece please do not hesitate to contact me.

Dulrayth Alabrion is my own creation…please ask before 'borrowing'.

~*LM*~

*~*~*~*

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Chapter One: Moonlight's Shadow

I travel then toward Uschtenheim in the dwindling light of day. The weight of my heart should ground me for it is heavy, so heavy with grief and anger. Everywhere I turn the Sarafan banners close in; do they even know whose emblem the black wings upon their banners are I wonder? Seraphim: Angels of Light - Sarafan. They have corrupted our language, stolen from it and debased it. Moebius' work no doubt, but the winged banner is ours. If the humans knew, would they still avidly brandish that emblem? Does Moebius himself truly know? Am I the only one who sees the irony of their action?

Below me the town sprawls, its oaken beamed buildings alive with the flames of the setting sun, warmed from their wintry white to an inviting amber. Behind the golden tinted windows I see the humans. They cower in fear. Not through my presence but through the ever-present 'threat' of my kind - the imagined threat: _"They will make off with your children in the night, dishonour your women and murder them. They are a disease, a filthy plague upon the land. They must be destroyed!"_ or so sound the false warnings of their Sarafan 'saviours'. How much of this is Moebius' own orchestration and how much the Hylden I wonder.

The wind jostles me, whipping my braided locks into my eyes and tangling my robes about me, it is rare I wear this garb and I am unused to its heaviness. The violet clouds advance as the sun seeks his bed, smearing the sky with velvety darkness. A guardsman mills about below me, unaware of my proximity, his plate armour bears the Sarafan sigil. Bringing my wings in I begin my descent. Gliding downward silent as death I alight a short distance behind him in the shade of a deserted, refuse filled alleyway. A few tentative steps set me behind him in a mockery of his shadow. He turns eyes wide; his hand instinctively reaches for the blade at his side. I know he is innocent of the crime that burns so in my thoughts, no more than a tool of Moebius' deranged machinations yet I cannot stay my hand, "Tell them, when they return, that I am waiting." My words a chilling hiss.

I see my visage reflected in his now raised weapon, skin of an azure hue, raven locks tousled and braided and eyes of molten silver. 

"Who are you?" he queried his voice quivering, I could almost taste his fear. Bearing my fangs in a dark smile I bowed slightly, returning, "Dulrayth Alabrion, of Janos Audron's kin. " 

"Vampire!" came the cry as, coming to his senses, the guardsman struck out at me. A clumsy effort but all the excuse I needed. Brushing the blow aside I grabbed the poor fool by the throat and drew him toward me, grating, "Are you so eager to die, mortal?" The guard writhed as a worm would upon a hook, struggling to free himself from my icy gaze. I merely laughed. He stumbled backward as I cast him away from me, "Sheath your sword, I have no desire for blood this night," I muttered, "All I ask is that you remember me to the Inquisitors. If you fail in this, our next meeting will not be so pleasant." I warned, taking to the air before he had the chance to summon aid from other guards stationed in the area. He looked after me, dumbfounded. I could not contain my mirth at the sight; my laughter followed him back to his post on the wind as I heard him discussing the matter with one of his superiors.

On the wing, again I continued in a southern direction, fighting against the ever-increasing strength of the mountain wind. Before my eyes a scene formed. I saw Janos battling against the Sarafan inquisitors, well to say 'battling' would be laughable, he was defending himself - that is all. Five of the six Knights harried him from all sides. The sixth, Raziel, stood guarding the Reaver a covetous look in his eyes. In his right hand, he held the timestreamer's accursed staff. The blue skinned wraith they had previously hunted was nowhere to be seen. It seemed Janos turned to me, as if he knew I was watching. Our eyes locked across the distance and that was the last I saw of him. Even now all that remains in my memory is the horrified look in those beautiful, haunting amber-gold eyes as the Sarafan blades took his life.

Darkness and despair welled up within me, the emotions forcing me to the ground as I fought to hold back the scarlet drops that blurred my vision. I staggered blindly through the woodland I had set down in; lost to anger and grief, there to stay until the dawns first rays crept over the horizon forcing me to take shelter.

Once the dawn had passed I noted I was in familiar territory at least, the Termogent Forest. Vorador's domain. The air was thick with mosquitoes; clouds of them surrounded me their droning whine competing for dominance with the croaking of frogs and the endless sucking of the swamp waters about the rocks. I rested against a half-rotted pine, listening to these sounds, the symphony of the swamp. Amidst the almost soothing intonation of nature I distinguished a less welcome sound, footsteps and the unmistakable clinking of plate armour and chain. A lone Sarafan banner hung limply upon an islet a short distance away, next to it the remains of a vampire. One of Vorador's, a child no doubt.

Vorador had been the first son borne unto Janos at the coming of the new age, one born to the blood curse rather than struck down by it. He knew nothing of the life we had lead before the Hylden invasion and the wars other than that he had learned under Janos' careful tutelage. Unfortunately he strayed from our path, becoming obsessed with the constant encroachments and attacks from the Sarafan armies. He left us to seek his own path, making a home for himself in this dismal swamp and seeking vengeance against his tormentors. They in turn preyed upon any vampire foolish enough to seek sanctuary within the walls of his ancient mansion stronghold, taunting him with their kills at any opportunity. It had been a century at least since I had lain eyes upon him and I secretly feared what I might find.

Rising to my feet, mindful of the acid waters about me, I headed in the direction of his mansion on foot. The sickly green glow of the marshlight lanterns, Ignus Fatuus, made the path evident to any foolish enough to approach Vorador's abode. The lights hung, spell bound, from skull capped poles adding to the altogether foreboding atmosphere of the area. Ahead of me, I heard muttering. The voices were unmistakably human and no doubt belonged to Sarafan on the 'hunt'. I chuckled quietly to myself and changed my heading, following the voices to their source.

Drawing near enough to smell the humans, I bided my time behind a grassy mound, out of their line of sight. Waiting for the right moment as I eavesdropped on their conversation:

"Blasted swamp stinks it does, I tell y'. This place'll be the death of us whether as vampire bait or through swamp sickness." A gruff male voice announced. The warrior adjusted his armourments and made a show of trudging through the mire in disgust, "Wretched swamp."

A younger male nodded his agreement, "Aye, too right. If Raziel and his lot want this bloodsucker dead why not come get it themselves? Reckon they're too good for this, I'll wager. Can't be soiling their splendid silverwear!" at this he effected a prancing gait, evidently mocking the Sarafan Inquisitor, Raziel, tip-toeing through the swamp water gingerly.

This last comment brought an amused chortle from the elder of the two, "Spot on Gerrick, spot on!" I must admit, I too was amused. Still, this was not why I was here these two were the enemy as such and they held the pathway before me. Keeping under cover of the tree shadows I stole closer, hoping to remain unnoticed and take them by surprise. It was not to be, in my absorption with their dialogue I had failed to notice their hunting hound. As soon as I moved the beast caught my scent and ran at me to attack, snarling and barking. 

I dispatched the beast with a simple kick to the chest, fracturing its ribs, the bones puncturing its heart. It died instantly. The guards fell silent. I could sense their confusion. The younger one drew his sword. I flared my wings in answer and challenge and slid into a feline crouch, one hand upon the leaf strewn ground before me, the other hovering over my blade cautiously.

"What the blazes is that…?" I heard him mutter to his superior. Neither of them made a move to attack me so I stood, allowing the full weight of my gaze to rest upon them, "Damn blueskin vampire, that's what," returned the elder guard edgily, "Kill it!"

Irked by their lack of acknowledgement I bared my fangs adding icily, "Correct sir, I commend you on your astute observation. Although I fear it is you who will die, not I." I took a swift measurement of them as they advanced on my position. These were no trained warriors, merely peasants thrust into the field. They were nothing more than blood-bait!

The younger one attacked first with a simple forward lunge. I swatted his clumsy blade aside easily and backhanded him to the ground before he had chance to recover, I felt his neck snap with the blow. He fell with a soft thud and did not stir. The elder guard had obviously seen some service, but had little skill. He weaved about, feinting now and then seeking a weakness in my guard. We played this game for a few moments before I intentionally gave him an opening. Taking the opportunity, the human followed through aiming his sword forcefully at my exposed flank. I side-stepped, allowing his momentum to carry him forward onto my waiting sword point and thus impale himself.

He clutched at my weapon, eyes large with a silent cry of surprise upon his lips. I closed my eyes momentarily and murmured, "You were warned, human…" before I tore his throat out and fed. Having drained both corpses I threw them into the foetid waters of the swamp and gave a quick prayer for their sped souls. I have no love of shedding blood, but must do so to survive. That is the cruellest element of the Hylden curse.

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~*Authors Note:*~

A big thanks goes out to everyone who's given me a review so far! I'm glad you like it! Stay with me folks, 'cos this is going to be an epic…the synopsis itself is 3 A4 pages. 

~*LM*~


	3. Chapter Two: Vorador

*~*~*~*

****

DISCLAIMER: 

I do not own anything related to Legacy of Kain apart from legally purchased copies of the games. 

All names from the game series used herein are owned by Eidos/Crystal Dynamics/Silicon Knights and are ™ & © of the same.

Any similarity between persons or vampires living, dead or undead created by other writers is purely coincidental.

If you feel I have impinged on any copyrights with the content of this piece please do not hesitate to contact me.

Dulrayth Alabrion is my own creation…please ask before 'borrowing'.

~*LM*~

*~*~*~*

****

Chapter Two: Vorador

Three hours I spent trudging through the dank swampland in an effort to find the master of Termogent House. Not an easy task, I can assure you. At dusk, I finally made the doors to his formidable gothic sanctuary, my legs burned and scarred through several falls into the murky waters that surrounded the house, my robes ruined and my patience worn dangerously thin. Flight was impossible in such dense woodland canopy as this; thus, I had been forced to traipse through this blasted quagmire hour after tedious hour in search of access, with the eyes of Vorador's eldritch Ravens firmly fixed upon me.

Standing before the massive oaken doors I did what I could to remedy the rather sorry state of my attire and then laid hand to the ornate brass gargoyle knocker giving three sharp raps with the ring and calling: "Vorador! I would speak with you!"

From deep within the hallway I heard the baritone reply of the vampire himself, "Who are you that dares enter the Termogent forest?!"

Biting back a curse at his pompous tone I returned venomously, " I am known to you as Dulrayth Alabrion, Janos Audron's ward and keeper of the Sanctuary. Open the door, this matter cannot wait!"

I heard the bolts slide back upon the other side and waited as the door creaked open before me. What I saw shadowed in the candle light within the hallway horrified me. The once noble vampire stood before me, a cruel parody of his former self. Gone was the chiselled face and moonlight pale skin, gone too the once abundant raven locks. What stood before me was a creature of human nightmare. Green skinned, cat eyed and savage. He bowed deeply at the waist; "I see my appearance gives cause for concern, old friend. Pay it no heed." He looked up at me; his cat like yellow irises held pain and mockery, "Enter. It is rare I see anyone of our kin from the Sanctuary now."

He stepped aside, permitting me entrance. His heavy scarlet velvet robes falling about him in a quiet sweep. I stepped within. "Have you traded your sword for artistry and decadence then, Vorador?" I remarked as my gaze travelled around the opulent décor of the hallway. Mahogany panelling adorned the walls; burgundy drapes hid the light from the windows and pictures in gilt frames - although bloodthirsty in subject matter - hung proudly along the length of the edifice. Beneath my feet the floor was of expensive black and white veined marble tiles, with strategically placed rugs.

Vorador smirked, showing the merest hint of his fangs, "Why should I not? I am lord and master of this house. I intend to live as comfortably as I may." He shut and once more bolted the oaken door, "Come."

He led me through a maze of extravagantly decorated candle lit rooms and hallways. Finally staying his steps at another doorway, throughout the journey I could not miss the harrowing screams that haunted the corridors nor the ever-present scent of spilled blood. As if noting my disquiet at the issue Vorador chuckled, "My children take great delight in avenging the wrongs done them by the Sarafan. I keep a small number of humans captive for their amusement." 

My eyes narrowed as I returned darkly, "There is a fine line between revenge and sadism, Vorador. Ware which side of the divide you stand."

Turning sharply on his heel my host growled, brandishing an accusing finger at me, "I stand on the victorious side Dulrayth. These humans are no better than animals, a herd to be thinned that our kind may once more take our rightful place as gods!"

So, the curse had not only twisted his body, it had corrupted his mind. He saw himself as a god, ruler supreme over all he surveyed, "Your arrogance ill becomes you, Vorador. Be wary that it does not cause your downfall." I warned. I had seen others fall into this trap many times over. As Janos' first born I could not allow history to repeat itself in Vorador's case.

Vorador cast an angry glance in my direction as he opened the door and ushered me inside. Within stood a heavy, highly polished table littered with scrolls, maps and such alike. So, this was his study. I noted with some surprise the oil paintings that adorned this particular room. The previous subjects of bloody carnage I had seen were replaced by elegant murals depicting us. The centrepiece of this was a magnificent likeness of Janos wielding the Reaver before the Hylden Hordes. I was gratified to see that he had not truly disowned his heritage.

Standing before me Vorador took in the room with a deliberate sweep of his arm, inviting my comment on matters. I remained silent; I had not come here to discuss his taste in ornamentation. Nodding coolly at my mute state, he seated himself at the head of the table and beckoned me to follow suit, "So, old friend, what truly brings you to my door? Surely Janos has not merely sent you to chastise me as you so seemingly take great delight in." He frowned, steepling his talons before his face as he rested his elbows upon the table.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself I lowered my gaze and took a seat, spreading my wings behind me and over the back of the chair. "No, Vorador. He has not…although I am here in his stead…" how could I continue? It had been but a day at best since the bloody deed of his murder had taken place. Now, confronting this fact for the first time I found my words thickened with grief. I bit my lower lip, hoping the brief discomfort would take me past the emotional barrier.

Vorador seemed oblivious to my predicament and prompted me with a cursory nod, "Well then, what is your business here?" Conjuring a goblet of blood to his hand he supped at it and waited. 

Very well then, I would pose no longer. My poetic tongue had abandoned me. The truth will out, I announced quietly: "Janos Audron has fallen to the Sarafan…"

To my surprise my hosts grasp upon his beverage faltered, he dropped the goblet heavily onto the tabletop its contents spilling over the edge to spread in a damning pool at its foot. "Then we are doomed." Vorador stated finally, "With the last _true_ guardian dead this world is beyond redemption." His voice rose as rage consumed him, slamming the flat of his palm upon the table top with a deafening roar he announced, "I will have Blood for this deed! The Circle will pay! They will pay…damn them…" Vorador choked back tears and groaned as his rage subsided and gave way to grief, "Do you speak the truth, Dulrayth?" he asked quietly. 

All I could do was nod, in mute comprehension at his torment. I reached out a tentative hand and laid it upon his shoulder in consolation, offering what little support I could. Despite my best intentions, I had given my fallen brother one more reason to hate humanity. He had lost his wives, his children and now his Sire to their blades.

That night the Termogent Forest rang with a different cry. The keen wail of anguish and grief.

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…To Be Continued…

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~*Authors Note*~

Unfortunately, I'm off to sunny Canada for the next fortnight on my hols though, so there won't be much happening here as of Monday. *But* when I get back I'll make up for that…*snigger*

~*LM*~

( _PS: Anyone have any idea on the names of the 6 Circle sorcerers Vorador killed prior to BO1 pls? *E me: xenith(at)blueyonder(dot)co(dot)uk or leave me a scribble in my review section *)_


	4. Chapter Three: The Termogent Forest

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DISCLAIMER:

I do not own anything related to Legacy of Kain apart from legally purchased copies of the games.

All names from the game series used herein are owned by Eidos/Crystal Dynamics/Silicon Knights and are ™ & © of the same.

Any similarity between persons or vampires living, dead or undead created by other writers is purely coincidental.

If you feel I have impinged on any copyrights with the content of this piece please do not hesitate to contact me.

Dulrayth Alabrion is my own creation…please ask before 'borrowing'.

~*LM*~

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Chapter Three: The Termogent Forest

The sun rose all too swiftly calling Vorador and I to action. In his younger days it was said that the master of Termogent House was always true to his word, with current events as they were I was saddened to see this was still true. There was but one responsible for the murder of Janos Audron, the timestreamer, Moebius. With the last ancient guardian felled the world of Nosgoth would be at the mercy of the Hylden dogs he served. Where revenge could be dealt swiftly against one, Vorador had sworn against the entire circle. In his eyes where one seed of guilt lay the root would spread and poison all others. I did not doubt the accuracy of his reasoning.

It was many leagues to the great fortress of the Sarafan at the Great Southern Lake, even for such as ourselves it would be more than three days journey through the wilds on foot. Of course, I had the advantage of wings and my companion that of his lupine guise so we could do something toward shortening this tedious journey.

By noon we had left Termogent House and toiled once more amidst the swamp. Although this time, with the knowledge of Vorador to my advantage and the vampire himself ahead of me in lead, I made the journey relatively unscathed. I noted with some satisfaction the complete absence of Sarafan soldiers from the area as we paused before the derelict time streaming chamber at the Northwest entrance to the forest.

Vorador grimaced at the ivy-wound edifice, commenting as he did so, "Once before I dealt with Moebius, the snake dares not return here again. Though he may send his armoured lackeys." His tone sent a chill through me, yet something darker rose within my mind bringing with it pleasure at the prospect of rending the devious sorcerer limb from limb for I too had an old score to settle with him. His hands were stained with the blood of my mate; mine would be stained with his. My companion chuckled darkly sensing the way my thoughts ran, "Well Dulrayth, it seems violence is not entirely beyond you. That is good." I smirked baring my fangs slightly and giving a casual flick of my wings as I answered, "True enough, Vorador. Too long have I spent in Janos' library - I am a warrior not a scholar."

Before us stood a shallow cave, within was a subterranean waterway leading into the depths of The Lake of The Dead. Vorador let me puzzle our dilemma whilst he assumed his wolf form and took to scouting out the pathways the Sarafan used to reach his domain. There was one other passage through the dense woodland, he had said, known to few and used by fewer still. It was reputed to be haunted by Shades, energy vampires, the remnants of those of our kin slain by the Sarafan whose souls are inexplicably still tied to their earthly remains.

As I stood mulling over our current predicament my gaze drifted lazily over the muddy ground between my islet and the cave mouth. A trail of cloven footprints was barely visible amidst the marsh grasses. Here and there, they were joined by human boot prints. There were signs of slight skirmishing, small trickles of blood mixed into the slick mud and a strange blue phosphorescent deposit lay upon some of the grass tufts. Making my way to the edge of the islet, I jumped the short distance to the adjacent shoreline to take a closer look at the intriguing marks. A Sarafan weapon lay discarded amidst the grasses, upon it the marks of some clawed creature. Where was this mysterious intruder at present, I wondered?

The footprints lead away into the cave and stopped at the very edge of the hidden subterranean waterway. No vampire will willingly cast themselves into the agonising embrace of water. Thus, I knew that this mysterious creature was surely not of our blood. I cast the Sarafan pike to the ground and made my way back out into the swamp to await Vorador's return. The night was drawing in and in the gloaming the Termogent forest took on an altogether more sinister aspect. The Ignus Fatuus returned to their skull lantern housings, mosquitoes swarmed around them and the air thickened with the odour of decay and terror. Strangely I found myself laughing, after all was it not just some elaborate illusion crafted by Vorador himself?

After a few more moments reflection I heard the snuffling and panting of a beast. Then slowly the glow of two feral yellow eyes appeared amidst the reeds. The air seemed to take on a chill as this spectre revealed itself. A large black wolf padded slowly toward me, jumping the swamp channels. It shimmered in the moonlight and with a sickening rending of bone and sinew, it began to change into a vaguely humanoid shape. I watched this spectacle a while, entranced, "What news, Vorador?" Completing the transformation, the vampire stood before me, "The path is a short distance west of here. Come." I nodded and allowed him to lead on.

Darkness had enveloped the swamp before we reached the trail. The pale moon above cast her cold fingers through the canopy to light our path and as I peered ahead into the forest I felt rather than saw the shades drawing near. Doubtless, we were some of the first 'living' things they had encountered in many a long day. My hand snaked down to my sword instinctively. Vorador growled softly, as a wolf would on the prowl. I cast him a sidelong glance and took the first tentative steps onto the trail, "Let them come." I announced more to the gathered spirits than to my companion.

Vorador raised his head, looking all the part of the aristocrat he had been in his former life, he breathed deeply through his nostrils, "I am master of this forest. Let it be known that none may stand against me here." He called. The demented wail of one of the spectral predators answered his declaration. The sound sent delicious thrills through me. _How many years had it been since I had hunted purely for the pleasure of it?_ I had been conditioned by Janos only to hunt when I had need. I nodded to Vorador, he returned the gesture and we entered the dense woodland.

The ground was firmer here than in the marsh but equally treacherous, the gnarled roots of trees snaked about our feet trying in vain to trip us and snakelike vines hung from the branches overhead. "How long does this trail run?" I asked of my companion in a confidential tone. He looked skyward as if to gauge our position by the moon. Then, with a low snort of amusement, he returned, " We have an hour yet ahead of us - Do you fear the wood, Dulrayth? " A low hiss escaped me in warning at this insult. The green skinned vampire arched a supercilious eyebrow and showed but the slightest hint of his fangs in challenge. In a century, nothing had changed. Even during his days at Sanctuary Vorador and I could not share civil company for overly long. We were too similar, Janos had said, both wilful and outspoken to a fault.

I held up a hand in apology, "Now is not the time, old friend." Vorador turned away casting an amused glance my way, "I see Janos has tamed you well. There was once a time when you would have slain a lesser vampire for words of that ilk." I bristled at his insinuation but held my tongue. I would not be goaded into an unnecessary fight. We continued in silence.

A cold breeze ran ominously through the bushes about us bringing with it a dark mist and a chill akin to that of the grave. Ahead of me I heard Vorador growl softly, there was more of the wolf in him than he would admit to. At the edges of my vision, something began to take shape. It was a strange creature, a column of shadow, stooped and headless with limbs far too long for its stunted form and no visible eyes. Another took form before me, this one with a glowing emerald crystal at its heart. So, these were the shades of Termogent Forest. Sinister perhaps, but not dangerous I presumed. After all, what harm can a shadow do?

The creatures gathered about us in a circular fashion, there were five in total, beyond their demented wailing the only other vocalisation they appeared to be capable of was a rasping hiss. I returned the hissing with more force, letting my displeasure be known, and demanding "Move aside spirit." The shade I addressed seemed to expand and darken, rearing up on its spindly legs. I sensed it drawing energy from it's surroundings and stepped back, the glowing fragment within it became brighter and a mist of the same colour began to form about its outstretched hands.

Before I had time to react a blade swung swiftly downward at the creature, cleaving it in twain, "Defend yourself, you fool! Even an ancient cannot long withstand the touch of these creatures!" Vorador snapped, bringing his blade around in a wide arc to fend off another shade. I backed up a few steps, releasing my blade from its sheath. The remaining shades advanced on us, hissing malevolence. From the rear of the group, one loosed a strange ball of mist at me, I spun away from it but it's trail brushed against the edge of my wing. A cold such as I had never felt enveloped my body. I realised then that Vorador had spoken the truth. These shades were dangerous.

I narrowed my eyes, summoning the full weight of my power to bear upon the creatures. The air seemed to grow still about me; the sudden calm was eerie. With each passing second, the sensation grew stronger; argent flames crawled over my body twining themselves about my arms and down the length of my blade. I arched my wings high above my head and brought the sword about cutting a swathe of light into the night. The Shades nearest me backed away hissing. I levelled the weapon at the creatures and directing the hated light at them demanded, "Move from our path or be moved by force wretches!" Vorador turned to regard me with some measure of bewilderment in his countenance; this was soon replaced by a vicious smile as he summoned his own dark gifts and breathed confidentially, "For the old times, my friend?"

"No, for the future" I returned grimly and launched myself into the creatures with a fierce cry. Several fell beneath the onslaught of my blade and the remainder were torn asunder by my companion in his lupine form. In that brief fracas, I saw the truth of what Vorador had become. He glorified in the destruction of these hellish things, tearing into them with savage abandon and a sickening sort of glee. There was nothing in him of the noble warrior he had been in past times.

For what it was, the fight was short but it served to calm the tension that had developed between us. We paused for but the briefest moment to collect ourselves. The moon was high overhead by now, full and deathly pale. She clung to the tattered clouds about her fretfully. It was a fine night for hunting and I must admit the thirst was growing strong within me.

Vorador lead onward into the forest, blade in hand lest more shades chose to try their luck with us. None came and within a short time we had put the forest at our backs. The early hours of the morn saw us on the road toward Nachtholm and the pillars. I wondered who now would take the guardianship of the great blade in Janos' place for none now lived from his ancient lineage. The blade was an heirloom of his house, forged many thousands of years ago by his ancestors. The only one who might have taken Janos' place was his son but he had taken his own life rather than accepted the madness of the curse.

Janos had regarded Vorador as a son but Vorador was sired by his bite not born into the world as we ancients were. Therein lies our doom; for the curse did more than afflict us with the thirst, it stole from us the ability to procreate. Thus none will be born of our race to guard the pillars and with our demise the death of Nosgoth is guaranteed.


End file.
